Sunday, November 07, 2004
New kitty
The new guy is doing pretty good overall. His eyes cleared up in the first week, and his nasal congestion got much better too; but after I ran out of the antihistamine the vet gave me, his nose started running again. He sounds like a little kid with the sniffles, and he has frequent sneezing fits. I called the vet and she asked me if I was giving him the Lysine. Yes, I said (that's a whole 'nother story). She suggested I start giving him half a Chlor-Trimeton with his food. I was a little dubious about that - that stuff makes ME jittery, imagine what it'll do to a kitten, I thought - but I bought some and I'll start giving it to him tomorrow morning.
Despite his sniffles, the new guy is eating well, like a pig, actually; he's put on weight and his coat looks better. And he seems happy.
Cat number one, however, Rocky, isn't taking it so well. In fact he's been rather immature about the whole thing. The inside of my right wrist has what look like a suicide's hesitation marks on it where Rocky slashed and bit me to show his displeasure. After I brought the new guy home, I played with him for a while, then washed my hands thoroughly and went to pet Rocky. He sniffed my freshly washed hand and wrist thoroughly, then hissed at me. After all I've done for him!
I read books and Internet articles about how to introduce a new cat into a home with an existing cat, and I've been following all the rules. The new guy has been staying in a spare bedroom with the door closed. Rocky has the run of the rest of the house. But Rocky knows the new guy is behind that door. A couple of times I've walked out of the room unexpectedly and surprised Rocky, who'd been crouching outside the door with a glass pressed up against it, eavesdropping on the new guy and me. He jumped up and ran away. I've been giving Rocky treats, lots of treats, and trying to show him extra love, like the articles say to do. But Rocky rejects my extra love.
Instead of adjusting, he's gotten pissier as the days go by. When I pet him, he makes ungodly yowling sounds and sometimes spits and hisses, the little bastard. He resists my blandishments. All week long I've been trying to reassure him. "Don't worry, baby, you're still my favorite," I tell him. "I love you the most. If we had a fire, I'd save you first!" But he's not having any of it.
Today I put him on my lap and tried to talk to him. "Look," I said, "you're just being selfish. You need to get used to it, because the new guy is here to stay. Don't begrudge him a home. How would you like it if nobody had adopted YOU from the shelter?"
Rocky growled at me.
"Hey, listen, whenever you want to start paying the mortgage, then you can start calling the shots around here. Until then, I'm the boss. And I say the new cat stays."
Rocky hissed.
"Aw, baby, don't be so mean," I said.
He slashed me and jumped off my lap and stalked away.
"NOBODY slashes me and gets away with it!" I shrieked hysterically at his fuzzy butt as it flounced away. "Don't you walk away from me! You're FIRED, how do you like that! You'll never work in this town again!"
He'll come crawling back, I know. His kind doesn't have opposable thumbs yet. He still needs me to work the can opener.
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The new guy is doing pretty good overall. His eyes cleared up in the first week, and his nasal congestion got much better too; but after I ran out of the antihistamine the vet gave me, his nose started running again. He sounds like a little kid with the sniffles, and he has frequent sneezing fits. I called the vet and she asked me if I was giving him the Lysine. Yes, I said (that's a whole 'nother story). She suggested I start giving him half a Chlor-Trimeton with his food. I was a little dubious about that - that stuff makes ME jittery, imagine what it'll do to a kitten, I thought - but I bought some and I'll start giving it to him tomorrow morning.
Despite his sniffles, the new guy is eating well, like a pig, actually; he's put on weight and his coat looks better. And he seems happy.
Cat number one, however, Rocky, isn't taking it so well. In fact he's been rather immature about the whole thing. The inside of my right wrist has what look like a suicide's hesitation marks on it where Rocky slashed and bit me to show his displeasure. After I brought the new guy home, I played with him for a while, then washed my hands thoroughly and went to pet Rocky. He sniffed my freshly washed hand and wrist thoroughly, then hissed at me. After all I've done for him!
I read books and Internet articles about how to introduce a new cat into a home with an existing cat, and I've been following all the rules. The new guy has been staying in a spare bedroom with the door closed. Rocky has the run of the rest of the house. But Rocky knows the new guy is behind that door. A couple of times I've walked out of the room unexpectedly and surprised Rocky, who'd been crouching outside the door with a glass pressed up against it, eavesdropping on the new guy and me. He jumped up and ran away. I've been giving Rocky treats, lots of treats, and trying to show him extra love, like the articles say to do. But Rocky rejects my extra love.
Instead of adjusting, he's gotten pissier as the days go by. When I pet him, he makes ungodly yowling sounds and sometimes spits and hisses, the little bastard. He resists my blandishments. All week long I've been trying to reassure him. "Don't worry, baby, you're still my favorite," I tell him. "I love you the most. If we had a fire, I'd save you first!" But he's not having any of it.
Today I put him on my lap and tried to talk to him. "Look," I said, "you're just being selfish. You need to get used to it, because the new guy is here to stay. Don't begrudge him a home. How would you like it if nobody had adopted YOU from the shelter?"
Rocky growled at me.
"Hey, listen, whenever you want to start paying the mortgage, then you can start calling the shots around here. Until then, I'm the boss. And I say the new cat stays."
Rocky hissed.
"Aw, baby, don't be so mean," I said.
He slashed me and jumped off my lap and stalked away.
"NOBODY slashes me and gets away with it!" I shrieked hysterically at his fuzzy butt as it flounced away. "Don't you walk away from me! You're FIRED, how do you like that! You'll never work in this town again!"
He'll come crawling back, I know. His kind doesn't have opposable thumbs yet. He still needs me to work the can opener.
